


one night

by Teddydripps



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, I love maxwil and wesson but I worship Woodson, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Rare Pair, Short Story, Wilson has a traumatic breakdown, Woodie soothes him like the gentle man he is, chester is there too!, heccing softness, maxwell was a bad partner for Wilson, she helps a lot, soothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17342165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddydripps/pseuds/Teddydripps
Summary: After a long time of freedom and silence, Wilson receives a call from a too familiar voice, and they're chat throws Wilson over the edge of panic.Woodie comes home from work.





	one night

**Author's Note:**

> FIRSTLY, OMG I AM A SHIPPER WHEEZE  
> I ship too much, but recently I've just had a super big soft spot for Woodson and like  
> I love those too softies together aaaaaaa
> 
>  
> 
> I want to first explain that yes, this is a modern AU, I do a lot of them, but in case of any confusion(Which I doubt there'd be), this isn't connected to my other maxwil story!  
> For this one specifially, Maxwell is an asshole who hurt Wilson in a past relationship, not a stern cuddly sweetheart like he is in the other story.
> 
> Probably gunna be a one shot but who knows  
> Will definitely write more Woodson in the future!

Sweat. The endless trembling and wheezing from the smaller male. It was a lot for the recently returned ginger to grasp, Wilson refused to speak. Well... More like he couldn't. The ravenette was shaking, sobbing and sniffling, arms closed over his chest, his knees brought up. Woodie sat next to him, on their bed. He was worried, tremendously worried. He didn't understand what had caused such an episode from Wilson. He asked and asked, all for no answer. All he could do was hold the small male, attempt to soothe him. 

He desperately wanted to know what was wrong. Not to be nosy, he didn't care about drama or what sorts, but he wanted to talk to Wilson, let his lover vent to him. Woodie was always good with talking, but his job was hard when the person in question was in wheezing fits. He was forced to wait a good while before Wilson had calmed enough to speak, his voice shaking and caught in his throat. He was pointing to his phone, which sat buried slightly in the covers. Woodie reached for it, not really understanding what Wilson just said under all the shaky mumbling. 

Upon turning the screen on, Woodie already could feel the anxiety in himself rise. The screen left on the phone page, specifically on Maxwell's contact page. Wilson must have forgotten to delete this, though it wouldn't matter since Wilson answered his phone always and Maxwell had his number. Woodie turned the pone aside and scooted to Wilson, he sat frozen as he was when Woodie came into the room. He wrapped his tan arms again the paler, holding him tight. He worked up the guts to ask, he already knew this would work Wilson up again.

"What did he say to you?.

Wilson didn't answer for a bit, and Woodie was afraid he wouldn't. A small cry came and his voiced piped up, but what came out was sobs. He shook his head, not wanting to speak, it seems. It didn't matter, Woodie supposed, he wouldn't pry if it hurt the scientist this much. 

Maxwell was an evil man. The older man had convinced Wilson that he was a great man, pretending and lying.The relationship became more questionable when Wilson would meet with his friends with odd bruising and markings on him. He'd blow them off as him getting too carried away with his inventions. Maxwell would soon only hurt Wilson horribly, not only did he cheat on Wilson with a woman named Charlie, but Maxwell had major anger issues. When Wilson found out of Maxwell's affair, he did what anyone would do and told Charlie, who was shocked and was to call off the relationship. Wilson would too. He would. Maxwell was quick to find out, losing his temper. That night Maxwell came home furious as Wilson was packing and waiting for Willow to pick him up. Maxwell had attacked Wilson, leaving the poor man bloodied and nearly unconscious by the time he was saved by Willow, who took him directly to the hospital. When police came to arrest Maxwell, the man had vanished, and went silent to everyone. Why Woodie hadn't questioned Wilson further back then, about the abuse and the living conditions of Maxwell, he didn't know. He blamed himself heavily. He saw those cigar burns on Wilson's arms, those bruises on his neck, scratches patched by band-aids that never covered the whole of it. If he would've done something sooner..

He was caught up in his head until he felt Wilson's arms around him, his weight leaning into him. He blew off his guilt, holding the slightly less shaky man to him. He gently ran his hand threw the inky black hair, soft strands curling around his fingers, calming to both men. Wilson had no where to go after he was out of the hospital, and everyone seemed to have little space for another being to take, everyone but him. The lumberjack didn't mind, he lived alone in the more country side of the town, a lot of space for a man who never really stayed inside. He was an outdoor man, liked hunting and exploring the woods behind his house. It reminded him of his childhood, and his home in Canada. 

Wilson on the other hand, was not an outdoor man. Wasn't in the beginning and definitely wasn't now that he was fearing so much. Woodie had noticed that Wilson was happier indoors, usually reading, studying, or inventing things in the spare room Woodie had let him use. Wilson, despite what Woodie thought when he first met the man, was a clean man. A neat and tidy house mate who'd keep things nice when he wasn't busying himself with his own works. The ginger wasn't too good at cleaning, and usually thanked Wilson for helping, even offering to pay him at times. Woodie felt bad, a lot. Wilson had gone through hell and yet he still did work that wasn't his. Anyone who did his work would make him feel bad if he didn't repay him. Woodie was that type of guy.  
Their time together had lead them to enjoy each other's presence. Woodie would find himself interested in Wilson's works, and even helping him build things.. with wood usually. Wilson would occasionally go to the woods with Woodie, wanting to find mushrooms and other plant life he could study. Rarely did they go to town unless it was shopping, neither of them liked going out in public. 

It was when Wilson had told Woodie that he'd find a job so he could get out of his hair, did Woodie feel saddened. Over the year they spent together, whole year that felt like mere months, he had grown to really enjoy Wilson. It was obvious the ravenette felt the same way, the way his voice would dull and his face would drop. They both really liked eachother. Woodie personally would say it was much more than a simple like he felt for Wilson, but he wouldn't admit it after Maxwell had scared Wilson bad. Beaten the poor man until he was nothing but a traumatized mess, he never went into detail about what happened during his interaction with Maxwell, and from the wounds, he didn't need to. 

The date was now today, the two men huddled together on their bed, one scared and the other comforting as he can. Woodie eventually did tell Wilson how he felt when he took him for a fancy dinner... at their home. The night was nice and Wilson seemed happy. 2 years, and it seemed Wilson recovered enough to move on, and he did, with Woodie. A man who had proven to be an amazing man. Rooms shifted and soon Wilson would stay with Woodie in his own, Wilson's old bedroom completely devoted to be Chester's play room. Chester, a small scruffy pup Woodie had saved from the pound, was his hunting companion, and became rather good friends with Wilson. Wilson had his own pet, a gift from Woodie after he learned that the scientist liked birds. The red bird was in his cage in Wilson's study, well fed and taken care of. Woodie couldn't help but to chuckle whenever he caught Wilson whistling to it, hushing it and petting it when it was perched on his hand at breaks. The bird seemed to help Wilson's nerves greatly, and Woodie was proud of himself for getting the noisy creature. Their life was fine, wonderful, a dream Woodie had almost given up on after his own traumas. Just as the bird helped him, Wilson had helped Woodie. Cooed him when stress of work had gotten him, helped him through his night terrors that only seemed to start just before a full moon. Through Wilson, he'd found out he sleep walked. They helped each other, and would continue to do so. 

Wilson had completely relaxed now, his soft breathing steady with Woodie's own. The two were silent, and that was fine. That was all they needed. Time and peace and silence. It was what they both deserved after their traumas.

**Author's Note:**

> Wonder what that phone call was about, huh...
> 
>  
> 
> I have another short fic coming later on sometime today or tomorrow!  
> This one is based of a Mili song but- the song gives me mega feels and ideas soooo-
> 
> I hope this was good to read!


End file.
